


Melancholy

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [110]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, a bit angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:50:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5803366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>melancholy: noun: ˈmelənˌkälē: a feeling of pensive sadness, typically with no obvious cause</p><p>Middle English: from Old French melancolie, via late Latin from Greek melankholia, from melas, melan- ‘black’ + kholē ‘bile,’ an excess of which was formerly believed to cause depression.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melancholy

It was one of those days. John honestly preferred when Sherlock was pacing, muttering to himself about a case, complaining about the state of the recent lack of creativity within the criminal class, torturing his violin - anything was better than the melancholy that engulfed his partner.

As usual, as he did on these days, he showered, dressed and was ready to go to the shops, or a pint with Greg, or just a walk, but Sherlock raised his head and whispered, "please stay."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Will you sit, here? Just hold me?" He nodded at the space on the couch next to him.

"Of course, you know all you ever have to do is ask me."

John sat and pulled Sherlock into his arms and waited.

"Uhmmm...sometimes I forget that I'm home, and that you are safe, and that we are together. I wake up and can't tell what's real, sometimes it feels like I've built all of this in my mind palace, you, Baker Street, the sounds of London, the scent of Mrs. Hudson's polish. I try to tell myself it's all real..."

"I'm real, love. I promise." John traced the tear that streaked down his lover's face with his finger. "Look at me?"

Sherlock opened his eyes carefully, and reached up to stroke John's jaw. "It is you. Would you mind just holding me, I just need to sleep, and I feel a bit safer with your arms around me."

John nodded and tried to smile, but instead he bent his head down and gently kissed the man in his arms and felt tears welling up. "I love you, so much. I wish I could help you-"

"I know. I love you. You do help, just by listening and waiting for me."

They spent the evening in silence, simply holding on to each other.


End file.
